Petal to the Metal

by Annabel Chase

  I stripped off my clothes and started to pull the dress over my head, triggering a muscle spasm in my shoulder.

  Crap.

  Tears stung my eyes as the pain intensified.

  Patrick knocked on the door. “Everything okay in there?”

  “I’m stuck,” I choked out.

  He wedged the door open. “You’re too muffled. What’s going on?”

  “My arms are stuck.” I tried not to acknowledge his view of my apple stomach and unflattering underpants.

  Patrick yanked down the fabric. “I’m glad this is a first date dress. You don’t want to end up flailing like this in the bedroom later. On a sexiness scale, it’s about a zero.”

  I massaged the offending muscle in my shoulder. “I think it’s from carrying the cat’s crate.”

  “I’m glad to see you already shaved your legs. We need to do something about your eyes. Do you have colored contacts?”

  I bristled. “No, I only have reading glasses. What’s wrong with my natural color?”

  “They’re hard to pin down. One second they’re blue. Then they’re green. Then grey. I don’t know what to call them.”

  “And what? You think my lack of a clear eye color will put him off?”

  “You want him gazing into your eyes because he’s enchanted by you, not because he’s trying to solve a mystery.”

  “I don’t have contacts. I don’t even like to wear eyeliner.” I couldn’t stand anything too close to my eyeball.

  Patrick cupped my cheeks. “You are precious.”

  “I’m glad you think so. Let’s hope Dane thinks so, too.”

  Dane arrived promptly at seven. Unsurprisingly, he looked just as amazing in casual clothes as he did in a suit.

  “You look great.”

  “Thanks. So do you.” I was relieved he didn’t seem to think I was overdressed.

  I walked to his idling Range Rover where he opened the passenger door for me.

  “I noticed all the crime scene tape in your yard,” he said, sliding into the driver’s seat. “That’s got to put a damper on moving into a new house.”

  “It isn’t ideal, but I feel worse for Gladys.” I made myself comfortable in the seat. “This is much better than a scooter.”

  He laughed as he pulled out of the driveway. “A big dog requires a big vehicle.”

  “You’re pretty tall, too.”

  “Six-four. My brother hates that I have two inches on him.”

  I bit my tongue. It was much too early for tawdry talk.

  He drove along River Road and into the heart of town. “I made reservations at Lark. Have you been there yet?”

  “No, only Jama so far.”

  He parked on the street in front of a riverfront boutique hotel. “The ingredients here are mainly sourced from regional farmers.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  The hostess seated us at an inside table overlooking the river. Outside was a pathway along the river illuminated by old-fashioned lampposts.

  “I love the view,” I said.

  “Me, too,” he said, smiling at me and I wondered if there was something in my teeth. Despite Patrick’s warning, I’d eaten an apple earlier so that I didn’t overeat at dinner.

  I studied the impressive cocktail menu until I remembered that I wasn’t supposed to drink while taking the amoxycillin. Bummer.

  I ordered scallops and Dane ordered short ribs with a local IPA.

  “My brother mentioned your arrest record.”

  I started to choke on my water. “What? Why would he do that?”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing,” I mumbled. “A youthful indiscretion.”

  “Well, we all have those.”

  I wasn’t convinced Dane Fairfax had any. He seemed like a model citizen. He probably rinsed out all his recycling before putting it in the bin.

  “I was upset that night. My boyfriend at the time, Bruce, had broken up with me and I’d gone out with friends. Needless to say, the evening didn’t go as expected.”

  “Have you ever been married?” Dane asked.

  “No. You?”

  “Once,” he said. “Lasted about five years.”

  “What happened?”

  He shrugged. “We wanted different things. Grew apart. Nothing crazy.”

  “I was shocked when Bruce broke up with me. I’d already picked out my wedding gown. Our venue.”

  “You were engaged?”

  “Oh, no. It was just that he was the first boyfriend where I actually pictured myself married, you know? I let myself believe in something for the first time in my life and then…it didn’t happen.” Nor did it happen with Andrew either. I was beginning to see a pattern.

  “I’m sorry,” Dane said, shaking his head, “but you couldn’t have married him anyway.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because his name was Bruce.” He pulled a face. “You can’t marry a guy called Bruce.”

  I laughed. “It wasn’t the coolest name in the world, but love involves compromise. You and Derek got lucky in the name department.”

  “I don’t know about that. Derek is a good name, but Dane’s a little out there. I was named after my grandfather.”

  “That’s nice. I was named after Amelia Earhart. My father wanted me to have the name of a positive female role model.” I toyed with the napkin. “I think he’d be disappointed to learn I didn’t become a pilot or something equally cool.”

  “He’s…?”

  “Dead. Yes. He died a long time ago, so you don’t need to look so sad about it.”

  “It can still be sad. I get emotional whenever I think about my grandfather dying and I was only five at the time.”

  “You were close?” I was fascinated by people who were close with family members. I’d never been close to anyone in my family. My mother liked to hover and insert herself into my life, but she was too busy trawling for husbands to develop anything more than a superficial relationship with me.

  “Yes, I think it bothered Derek that my grandfather doted on me, but we had a lot more in common. Derek was always on the go and I had more…academic interests.”

  “You were five when he died,” I said. “What kind of academic interests did you have?”

  “Dinosaurs. Insects. Aquatic life.” He took a long sip of his beer. “Derek was more interested in pulling the wings off fireflies than learning about them.”

  After two glasses of water, my bladder signaled that it was time to get up. Although I hated to walk away in the middle of a good conversation, I didn’t have a choice unless I wanted to impress Dane with my ability to make it rain under my chair.

  I hustled down a narrow corridor to the restrooms. A familiar figure emerged from the men’s room.

  “Leo? No wait. Carlton.”

  He took a moment to register me. “New in town,” he said, unsmiling. In fact, his whole demeanor was downcast.

  “Mia,” I reminded him. “Is everything okay?”

  “Not really. My mom died unexpectedly. I’m at the bar commiserating with friends.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that.” Suddenly his last name sprang to mind—Carlton Spencer. “Your mom was Gladys,” I blurted.

  He frowned. “How do you know that?”

  “She was found in my garden. I found her.”

  His eyes rounded. “Of course. I didn’t make the connection. The police mentioned something about you, but I was too preoccupied to pay much attention. They asked me so many questions.” He shook his head.

  “It sucks, but I guess you’re the obvious person to talk to if you have the most to gain from her death.”

  He dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m her next of kin, but I didn’t inherit anything. My mom left everything to Kurt.”

  “Is that your brother?” I asked.

  “No, my cousin. Kurt Wiggins.”

  My brow lifted. “That must’ve upset you.”

  Carlton pursed his lips. “No, man. Kurt’s a guy i
n need of a handout. My mom knew I was doing fine on my own.”

  “So you knew about the will,” I said. It was more of a statement than a question.

  “Of course. Mom told me all about it. I guess she wanted to make sure I was cool with it.”

  “If Kurt was desperate for money, do you think…?” I left the question dangling between us.

  Carlton blew a dismissive breath. “Kurt? Are you kidding? He’s softer than my cashmere socks. No way would he have the stomach for something like that. Plus, he loved my mom. She doted on him like he was her own son.”

  “Still, if he’s the only one who stands to gain anything from her death…”

  “Maybe it was a random attack,” Carlton said.

  “Maybe.” Although it seemed unlikely. She wasn’t mugged or violated.

  “Anyway, I’m trying to stay out of their way and let them investigate,” he said. “I’d like to put this whole thing behind me.”

  “You’re a more patient person than I am. Speaking of which, I really need to go.” I motioned to the restroom.

  “If you want to join us after dinner, we’ll still be at the bar.”

  “Thanks, but I’m on a date.” I didn’t think Dane would welcome the suggestion to meet a group of other men at the bar afterward.

  I finished in the restroom and returned to the table wearing a fresh coat of lipstick. My mother would be proud.

  “I just ran into the victim’s son,” I said. “He’s over at the bar. Talk about awkward.” I spotted Leo and Jax with him and immediately registered the bandage on Jax’s hand. He’d been wearing it at Jama, too. I looked at the bandage on my own hand. Jax had blamed the injury on something in the office, but what if…? No, that made no sense. What motive could he possibly have?

  Dane followed my gaze to the bar. “My brother mentioned they’re interested in the nephew. Apparently he doesn’t have an alibi for the time of the murder and Derek got the distinct impression the guy is hiding something.”

  “Um, that would be a murder,” I said. “He’s hiding a murder.”

  “Not necessarily. Anyway, the police don’t have enough evidence to make it stick. They’re still trying to find the murder weapon.”

  “And in the meantime, the nephew wanders free?” I asked. “That doesn’t seem right.”

  “You were walking around free when they suspected you,” Dane reminded me.

  “Yes, but I am innocent,” I emphasized the last word.

  He leaned forward wearing a seductive expression. “Yes, but how innocent?”

  I licked my lips, my pulse racing. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Dessert,” Dane said, eyeing a passing tray of sweets.

  Right, he meant food. Of course he did. “I am open to suggestions.”

  We ended up sharing the chocolate lava cake and it was way hotter than the spaghetti scene in Lady and the Tramp, mostly because it involved cake.

  After dinner, we ambled along the pathway and admired the moonlight’s reflection on the water. The walk was both romantic and good for digestion. A win-win.

  “This has been fun,” he said. “I hope we can do it again sometime.”

  I looked up at him to respond and the back of my neck began to tingle. An image flashed in my mind of Dane kissing me in front of the door at Red Clover. I threw a hand against a lamppost to steady myself.

  Dane studied me. “Mia? Are you okay?”

  I was so surprised by my vision that I didn’t know what to say. “Yes, just a dizzy spell. Sorry. I had a great time, too.”

  He appeared unconvinced, not that I blamed him. I must’ve stared at him like a dead fish. If it had been a daydream, I wouldn’t have been so freaked out, but it wasn’t. It felt more like a memory of something that hadn’t happened yet.

  “I’m pretty worn out,” I said. “Would you mind driving me home now?”

  “Of course.”

  We chatted easily on the drive home, and Dane mentioned a few historical facts about buildings we passed. By the time he pulled in front of Red Clover, I’d almost forgotten the strange moment.

  Almost.

  “Good night, Dane. Thank you.”

  I escaped from the car before he could walk me to the door. As much as I wanted to kiss him, I also didn’t want the vision—or whatever it was—to be true. The implications would be too much to digest. Part of me thought I was overreacting. It was probably anticipation. The date had gone well and it was only natural that I could see him kissing me at my front door.

  I unlocked the door and slipped inside. I leaned against the door with my heart pounding, feeling simultaneously relieved and disappointed.

  “Leave it to me to screw up the best date I’ve had in years,” I said.

  Ophelia’s green eyes appeared in the darkness and I switched on the light.

  “I guess you’re here to make things worse.”

  The cat sauntered toward me and rubbed her side against my leg. I remained perfectly still, afraid that if I moved, she’d bite me. It was only when I heard the soft purring sound that I realized I was safe. I bent down and cautiously placed a hand on her back to pet her. Ophelia meowed and shifted to rub her head against the palm of my hand.

  “I stand corrected,” I whispered.

  Chapter Twelve

  It appeared to be toddler hour at the library. An entire section of the building seemed devoted to corralling wandering little ones who were disinterested in story time.

  Although I’d applied online for a library card, you have to show up in person with two forms of identification in order to receive it, so Scarlet kindly offered to drive me.

  “There’s a new gardening book I want to check out,” Scarlet said.

  “I can’t imagine anything more boring than reading a book about plants.”

  She cut a sideways look at me. “I think you’d find it extremely helpful.”

  “I’ll rely on you and the internet, as soon as the police give me the all-clear to return to the garden.”

  Scarlet clutched my arm. “Great Goddess, it’s Kurt Wiggins.”

  I followed her gaze to a thin man in a brown leather jacket perusing one of the fiction aisles. His hair was so thin that I could see his scalp beneath it.

  “That’s Gladys’s nephew?”

  She nodded. “I can’t believe the police suspect him. He’s always seemed so sweet to me.”

  “I want to talk to him,” I said.

  Scarlet’s eyes widened. “Why? Let the police handle it.”

  “Because he’ll be off his guard with me. He doesn’t know who I am. Maybe he’ll slip up and say something I can share with Detective Fairfax.” And maybe I would sleep better knowing a killer was no longer on the loose.

  Scarlet nudged me. “Maybe you just want more time with the hot detective. His brother isn’t enough for you.”

  My cheeks flamed as I remembered my vision of Dane kissing me. If only it hadn’t unsettled me so much. With my luck, I’d never hear from Dane again.

  “Stay here. I’m going to see what I can find out.”

  I studied Kurt for a moment, pretending he was a prospective client I wanted to land for the paper. I had a few tactics I generally employed when it came to charming strangers and Kurt Wiggins seemed ripe for the Friendly Woman Who Might Eventually Bang Me technique.

  I wandered over to the aisle and glimpsed the selection of titles in front of him. Kurt’s hand hovered in front of a Nicholas Sparks book and he seemed uncertain whether he wanted to take a closer look.

  “I wouldn’t touch that one unless you have an ample supply of tissues,” I said.

  Kurt’s hand dropped to his side. “I’m in the mood for a tear-jerker, though. You might have just convinced me.” He met my gaze. “Let me know if you need help finding anything.”

  “You work here?”

  “Part-time. I don’t usually work today, but I had to call out yesterday.”

  No kidding. “Really? Why is that?”

  �
�My aunt died,” he said glumly.

  I slapped my cheek. “You’re kidding? Mine, too.”

  Kurt laughed awkwardly. “If this were a rom-com, they’d call this a meet cute.” He paused. “Except for the part about the dead aunts.”

  “Yeah, that’s pretty morbid. Maybe a dark comedy?” I offered helpfully. “Such a tragedy. My aunt’s death was sudden and unexpected.” Despite her advanced age and failing health.

  Kurt’s eyes teared up. “Same.”

  “Were you two close?” I asked.

  His head bobbed up and down. “We were. That’s why I’m looking for a Nicholas Sparks book, actually. He was one of her favorite authors. I thought I would honor her memory by reading one.”

  I swallowed hard. This guy didn’t seem like a killer, unless his choice of Nicholas Sparks was motivated by guilt rather than a genuine desire to honor his late aunt.

  “That’s incredibly sweet,” I said. “My aunt was a big fan of John Grisham.” It wasn’t necessarily a lie. I’d spotted a copy of The Firm on a shelf in the cottage—covered in dust.

  Someone shushed me from across the room. I turned to see the librarian glaring at me.

  Kurt ducked his head and chuckled. “Mrs. Linsky takes her job very seriously.”

  “I noticed.” I leaned against the shelf, affecting a casual air. “It’s a strange twist of fate that my aunt was such a fan of crime thrillers in light of her murder.”

  Kurt started to choke and I whacked him on the back. “Your aunt was murdered?” he asked in disbelief.

  “I know. Crazy, right? I mean, people get murdered every day, but you never think it will happen to someone you know.”

  Kurt stared at me with an awestruck expression. “My aunt was murdered, too.”

  I took a careful step backward. “Okay, this is getting bizarre. How?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. The police are investigating. They thought it might be some transient, but they ruled her out.”

  Transient? I squelched my desire to defend myself. “That’s terrible. What happened?” I noticed he didn’t mention his own potential involvement.

  “Aunt Gladys was found in a friend’s garden. At first, they thought she fell and hit her head, but now they think someone deliberately hit her.”